Into The Mist: A LaShaun Rousselle Mystery (LaShaun Rousselle Mysteries Book 4)

by Lynn Emery

  Arliss backed away like a crawfish on the run until her amble butt hit the kitchen cabinet. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. Sherry gasped and clutched her thin neck. Her gaze darted from LaShaun to her mother and back again. LaShaun didn’t wait for them to speak. She strode out, slamming the cheap aluminum door behind her. A strong January wind blew hard, rattling the storm door and windows. As she walked the few yards to her SUV, LaShaun worked to control her anger. Moments later, she sat behind the wheel. She glanced up as she turned the ignition to see Sherry standing in the door. The woman wanted to talk, but fear held her back. But fear of what? Or maybe who.

  LaShaun drove through the now dusky overcast countryside toward home. She thought about her own mother. Like Sherry, being a mother took a backseat to her own demons. Monmon Odette had stepped in to nurture LaShaun. In contrast, Arliss didn’t appear to be supportive at all. In fact, the woman terrorized Sherry into silence.

  As her Subaru Forrester rolled along Highway 82, the weather matched her gloomy mood. Tiny droplets from a thick fog dotted on her windshield. Four or five clumps of houses appeared every few miles. In between, she drove past fields and pastures. LaShaun turned on the radio. She picked up KROF, a talk station in Abbeville. Sheriff Godchaux’s deep voice boomed through the speakers, causing her to jump.

  “Those are just rumors, Nick. Currently, none of the family members of the little girl are active suspects,” he said.

  “Reports are that her uncle, Tommy Bradford, served time for sexual offenses involving underage females. He turns up dead. Y’all think he had something to do with it? I mean folks hear stories of human trafficking, and it’s got to have parents around Beau Chene on edge,” the radio interviewer said.

  “We haven’t had any arrests for human trafficking in Vermilion Parish for the past year or so. I want to assure the public that there is no evidence of such crimes involved in this case. My deputies have several promising leads that they’re following up on right now.” Sheriff Godchaux broke in before the interviewer could. “The Vermilion Parish Sheriff’s Department has allocated heavy resources to find Dina Bradford.”

  “I’m sure you have, but what about talk that a voodoo cult is right here in our parish? The longer she’s missing, the colder the trail gets. Isn’t that right? If there’s a conspiracy—”

  “Nothing found indicates strangers are involved,” Sheriff Godchaux interrupted again.

  “So you do think the family is part of this?” a female host spoke up.

  “I didn’t say that. All I can speak to is what we know as of this hour of the investigation,” Sheriff Godchaux said with force.

  “No disrespect for our fine law enforcement professionals, Sheriff, but doesn’t sound like you know a whole lot,” Nick, the male talk show host, put in.

  “Well that’s not going so well,” LaShaun murmured.

  She turned down the sound as Sheriff Godchaux sought to recover. She glanced around. The weather seemed to agree with her grim assessment. Although it was only four o’clock, a cloudy sky along with the fog made it seem later. Visibility had reduced in the last few minutes. Her low beam headlights did little to illuminate the road. LaShaun reduced speed to forty miles per hour. Suddenly an object appeared ahead. She jammed the brake pedal holding her breath. The SUV slowed to a stop. The object melted into the grass of a prairie to LaShaun’s left. She jerked the gear shift into park, hit the emergency blinkers and got out. Every inch of LaShaun’s skin lit up with the itching tingle. Flattened wet scrub grass marked a track. She followed it a few yards through heavy mist until she reached a tiny figure. LaShaun breathed hard as her heart hammered in her chest.

  “Dina, don’t run from me. I’m going to take you to your mama.” LaShaun stood still, afraid the child would indeed run from a stranger.

  The child shook her head hard until her matted blonde hair flew out. “No, no. Please don’t make me go back to her, to them.”

  Chapter 9

  “No, I don’t want to come nowhere. Just give us Dina so we can leave. I told Sherry she was a fool to get that Rousselle woman mixed up in our business.” Arliss Bradford shouted over MJ’s attempts to calm her. “While y’all was trying to blame my son, she had Dina all the time. You tell Dave Godchaux I know a cover-up when I smell one.”

  Four hours later, LaShaun sat listening to her rant as she sipped coffee in Chase’s office. A Department of Child and Family Services caseworker had arrived with dry, clean clothes for Dina. She’d brought a clinical social worker with her to interview the child. Arliss’s voice went down to a still outraged mumble in the background. Seconds later, it faded. LaShaun took a deep breath then finished the last of the bitter brew. She stood when Chase came in, Ellie on his hip. The toddler immediately reached for LaShaun.

  “I couldn’t find a sitter so I brought her with me,” Chase said as he allowed Ellie to scramble from his arms into LaShaun’s.

  “Of course. Who can plan for me stumbling on a child in the middle of nowhere?” LaShaun kissed Ellie’s cheek. The warmth from her little body felt good. “Poor baby. Imagine her wandering out there alone, lost.”

  “Volunteers from three parishes searched that area. Where’s she been, and how did she get out there?” Chase sat on the edge of his desk.

  Det. Anderson pushed through the half open office door without knocking. His partner, Ken Tullier, followed and shut the door hard. “Those are some great questions we intend to ask Mrs. Broussard.”

  Chase stood between him. “Just what the hell does that mean, Mark?”

  “Mighty strange she happens across a kid half the parish been looking for and didn’t even find a trace. Now her mama is missing. You know where she is, Mrs. Broussard?” Det. Tullier’s thick Cajun accent made the accusation sound like casual conversation. His stony expression didn’t match the tone.

  “Of course not,” LaShaun replied.

  “That’s a bunch of bull…” Chase cut off his rant after a side glance at little Ellie, who watched wide-eyed.

  “Maybe we was too close to the truth. Tracking down this voodoo-hoodoo angle. So you and your people decided snatching a little white girl was a really bad idea. Best to let her go.” Anderson raised an eyebrow at Chase.

  LaShaun held her breath as tense silence stretched. Chase’s eyes narrowed, his chest rising and falling as he breathed hard. Detectives Anderson and Tullier seemed content to let the moment simmer. Both detectives studied LaShaun and Chase, obviously looking for reactions. LaShaun jumped when Chase started laughing. MJ pushed through the door forcing Tullier to step aside.

  “Child services will keep Dina.” MJ broke off from further updates when she picked up the charged vibes. “There a problem in here?”

  “Go ahead guys. Tell MJ your brilliant theory. They think LaShaun kidnapped Dina Bradford for some voodoo ritual, but then she panicked and pretended to find her. Please lay out the evidence.” Chase gave another harsh laugh. Then he put a protective arm around LaShaun’s shoulders.

  MJ faced the two detectives. “He’s joking, right?”

  Tullier exchanged a glance with Anderson before speaking. Then he gave a grunt. “Mrs. Broussard has been involved in, no make that a suspect in, a number of incidents. Most of them dealt with weird goings-on. Now a kid goes missing, the mother asks for her, and we only have her word for it that this Evans woman broke into her house. Maybe they were all in it together and had a falling out.”

  “Must have been a lucky break for you when Sherry asked for you,” Anderson said to LaShaun. “You could get inside information on our investigation.”

  “Either you’ve both lost your minds, or you have a truckload of hard evidence to back up this allegation. Now which is it?”

  Anderson looked at Tullier before he spoke. Then he gazed at MJ. “The Evans woman came to. She said, ‘The Rousselle woman knows,’ or something like that.”

  “Or something like that? You’re not even sure what she mumbled. Stop right there.” MJ held up a pal
m when Tullier opened his mouth. “I talked to the nurse who was in the room with you when Evans started rambling. According to him, not much of it made sense.”

  “We can pull together more facts,” Anderson replied with heat.

  “What facts other than gossip and prejudice?” MJ shot back when neither Anderson nor Tullier answered immediately. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out as the two men glared down at her. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I suggest you do some real police work instead of listening to cooked up fantasy tales about voodoo women.”

  “Too bad Tommy Bradford can’t talk, huh?” Anderson looked at LaShaun. Then he walked out.

  “Real police work means following up no matter where the clues lead you, friends or not,” Tullier said mildly. He strode through the open door and shut it behind him.

  Chase started after him. “I’m going to—”

  “No, you’re not.” MJ put a hand on his chest and pushed him hard. Despite the difference in their heights and size, MJ caused him to step back.

  “Brawling with your fellow officers won’t help, honey,” LaShaun said. “Besides, I’d have questions if I were in their shoes. My past doesn’t help.”

  “Mama.” Ellie patted LaShaun’s face with a grin, as if she was in on the joke about her mother’s infamous backstory.

  “You’ve done nothing but try to help. Stupid back country superstition and bigotry,” Chase blurted out. He raked long fingers through his thick dark hair.

  LaShaun had the sense Chase wasn’t only talking about his colleagues. Her mother-in-law hadn’t moved one inch toward accepting LaShaun. She moved closer to him until they stood side by side. Ellie reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt. His frown eased a bit as he closed his large hand over her tiny one.

  “We’ll get at the truth and show them all.” LaShaun gave him a light kiss on one cheek.

  “I hate you have to put up with their kind of crap.” Chase pulled LaShaun closer. “You, too, MJ.”

  “We never get used to it, but we do learn to keep going. Besides, being successful and happy drives the suckers crazy.” MJ put on a sideways grin.

  Chase grunted. “All well and good, but I’m going to pound the first chump that tries to insult my baby girl.”

  “Baba,” Ellie blurted out. Her chubby fist seemed to make a karate chop.

  LaShaun chuckled as Ellie wore a frown that matched her father’s serious expression. “I have a feeling Ellie will be able to handle herself.”

  MJ was about to answer when a commotion outside distracted them all. Bumping and yelling came from the direction of the open duty room. Then tinkle of glass breaking came next. MJ and Chase headed out at the same time. Chase waved LaShaun back.

  “Stay here with the door closed,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Right. Better idea,” LaShaun murmured. She looked at Ellie, who appeared just as eager to find out what was going on.

  “Dada?” Ellie jumped in her mother’s arms.

  “You heard your father. We have orders to stay put.”

  Still LaShaun went out into the hallway and stretched in an effort to see around the corners. The sounds of a scuffle died away about ten minutes later. At the sound of footsteps, she scuttled back into the room and closed the door fast. She stood across from it when Chase and MJ came back.

  “And I thought things couldn’t get any crazier.” Chase muttered curse words, then stopped when LaShaun frowned at him and nodded to Ellie. “Sorry.”

  “Now what?” LaShaun looked to MJ for answers.

  “Dina’s daddy snatched up Sherry and beat her within an inch of her life. The police brought him in. He didn’t come quietly.” MJ’s brow wrinkled at the turn of events.

  “No wonder Dina doesn’t want to go home,” LaShaun said.

  MJ looked at Chase. “That’s not the worst.”

  “I don’t see how…” LaShaun’s voice trailed off as she gazed at her husband. His face twisted into a scowl like she’d never seen before.

  Chase appeared to work hard on getting the words out, “Dylan claims Sherry and her family sold Dina.”

  ****

  The next day, Miss Rose, Pauline and Justine wore mirror image frowns as they sat sipping hot Louisiana dark roast from cups. The gloomy topic they discussed with LaShaun contrasted with Miss Rose’s airy kitchen accented in bright yellow, green and turquoise blue. Ellie squealed with delight as she played with Miss Rose’s grandchildren. Yet the sound of children laughing in the next room didn’t lighten the atmosphere.

  “This is a dark, dark business y’all. Weighs heavy on the soul thinking about it,” Pauline said.

  “Dark and deep. A mother and grandmother selling their child…” Justine slapped a palm on the table top. “Makes me want to hit somebody.”

  “I know,” LaShaun replied softly. “I’ve been swinging between sadness and anger since MJ told me.”

  “So Dylan is convinced that Sherry let her brother molest Dina and sell her away. But is it true?” Miss Rose glanced around at the others.

  “Maybe not. The boy been sampling his daddy’s product. Meth makes folks crazy. They come up with all kinds of freaky paranoid thoughts..” Justine’s tone implied she wanted badly to find reasons to discount the horror.

  “Dylan was high when they arrested him. It took five big strong deputies to bring him under control. But let’s look at the facts. Kris Evans has children that, so far, the state police or sheriff can’t track. Where did she get them? She hooks up with Tommy and his niece goes missing.”

  “Yeah.” Pauline huffed in disgust.

  Miss Rose sat straight and consulted her laptop. “We have some answers. Our team in California did a skip trace on Kris. She adopted the girl in 2009 and the boy in 2010.”

  “I didn’t know adoption records were public anywhere,” LaShaun said and blinked at Miss Rose.

  The older woman smiled. “They’re not. We’ve got TEA members positioned in some of the most useful places like state DMVs around the country and vital records offices.”

  “Or we developed ‘consultants’ who can help us, those who understand that evil goes beyond the natural world,” Pauline added with a nod.

  “This Evans woman became a solid citizen despite her past of petty crimes. She first became a foster parent, then she adopts these two children. But we know she has a history of active cult membership.” Justine crossed her arms.

  “Any indicators she’s joined up with Juridicus?” LaShaun leaned over to gaze at Miss Rose’s laptop screen.

  “She lived in New Orleans for six years between 1999 and 2005. She evacuated ahead of Hurricane Katrina. That’s when she landed in California the second time. She got a job in a daycare center, later as a teacher’s aide in public schools.” Miss Rose read off the bullet points.

  “So it’s entirely possible she got involved with Juridicus, which is headquartered in New Orleans,” LaShaun replied.

  “Unfortunately, we have no way to confirm she did. Juridicus wasn’t on our New Orleans team’s radar back then. Who knew a group of high powered lawyers was a cover for a cult?” Miss Rose shrugged. “But she did hang out with uptown types. She attended the same balls and social functions their leaders did. Our New Orleans team put boots on the ground and interviewed people who knew her.”

  “We’ve got good people for sure.” Pauline nodded.

  “Wait, just got an instant message.” Miss Rose adjusted her reading glasses as she stared at the screen. “Humph, Evans did volunteer work for The Justice Project. Seems she helped organize some of their charity projects for children in low rent housing developments.”

  “There’s the connection then.” Justine gave a satisfied nod.

  They all refreshed their cups of coffee as they sat wrapped in their own thoughts. Miss Rose went into her spacious family room, turned play room for the day, when the kids got too quiet in her opinion. Pauline absently started clearing up. Justine paced. Then they all were seated again. LaShaun spok
e first.

  “Something’s not right. This woman led a carefree life of petty crime, drugs and heavy metal rock. Suddenly she’s all maternal? And why is Juridicus so civic-minded about families?” LaShaun looked around at her friends.

  “They don’t do anything unless it fits their agenda,” Pauline said with a grimace.

  “Exactly. So what are they up to?” LaShaun heaved a sigh.

  “Here’s the report from our Data Analytics and Informatics Department. Lots of technical blah-blah-blah about algorithms, multi-branched recursion, and more stuff that us regular humans can’t fathom.” Miss Rose kept reading. “Ah, now we get to the part in English. Oh damn.”

  “Rose, we’re dying here. Spit it out,” Justine said as she waved her arms around.

  “We keep track of people with paranormal abilities, especially children. Many of us suffer in isolation thinking we’re crazy or worse—possessed by the devil. So we gather and sort through reports of paranormal events, lots of nonsense or scams, you know. Anyway, about seven children of various ages that we had in the database have gone missing in the past twenty-four months.” Miss Rose took off her eyeglasses and let out a long whistle.

  LaShaun frowned. “Why didn’t TEA see this pattern before now?”

  “We don’t spy on them. Unless they need us, we don’t interfere in their lives. They’re entitled to privacy after all,” Miss Rose replied.

  “And anyway, TEA is good, but we don’t have the resources to track hundreds or thousands of people. Even if we wanted to,” Pauline added.

  “Yeah, some of them don’t want any part of being ‘special’. Others get totally freaked out,” Justine added.

  “Still, something should have tipped us off with all this fancy technology we have,” Pauline said.

  Miss Rose put her readers on again. “These incidents are scattered. Three children are in the US: One in Indiana, two from Florida. One child is in England, another in Jamaica and a boy in Croatia. The fourth one was in Panama. Let’s see. The kid from Indiana just turned twelve. He’s listed as a runaway. So is the young girl in Florida. She’s fifteen. Says here her mother reported that she took off with her seventeen-year-old boyfriend to parts unknown.”